When flying,

One should be careful.

 

So

many

things

could go wrong.

 

You could be like Icarus--

so enamored 

by the light

by the wind

and the great,

wide,

free,

sky,

that you forget that you cannot handle the heat--

and that you are only human.

 

You could lose yourself, 

among the soft

white

clouds 

and 

forget,

when your wings tire,

that clouds were not made to hold us and we cannot fly forever.

 

You could drink too deeply

of the rich

pale 

Milky Way

and--

intoxicated with Celestial dreams--

wander starry-eyed 

into the space's abyss

laughing

laughing 

laughing

losing air--

and never even realizing it. 

For the Milk of the Universe wasnot made for mortals. 

 

When flying,

One must be careful: 

Everything that inhabits the infinity between the Earth's surface and the beginning of Heaven is lethal. 

 

It is cold,

unforgiving,

lonely,

and vengeful. 

 

The gravity,

The wind,

The clouds,

The stars, 

The sun, 

The Milky Way itself--

Conspire against us. 

 

A smart creature would stay on the ground. 

A careful creature wouldnot try to exist in an evironment so hostile. 

 

But we're not smart. 

 

We're not careful.

 

We're human.